If Not Now, When?
by SomeLikeItHot88
Summary: Time is precious and absence truly does make the heart grow fonder and fonder. RedxLizzie oneshot


The atmosphere between them was strangled and ominous from day one but there was intrigue and fascination that boiled underneath the vast emotions that each conjured up within the other. The first meeting was terrifying and exhilarating, a rookie FBI agent meets the fourth most wanted man in the world- A provocative and alluring individual who made her squirm under his gaze. He was intimidating, menacing and dangerous but she trusted him way too soon- let her guard down way too easily and if she wasn't married at that time - she had inclination to believe she would have spread her legs for him at the first sound of his voice - A velvety texture, smooth like butter but with a low growly rasp and bite that sent chills down her spine and made her heart race just a little bit faster.

Their meeting.

Their shared past

The current situation

And the unknown truth of what the future would hold

This was a fairytale, or maybe a cautionary tale. It was like a modern day fable for the realists. Because sometimes the helpless princess learns how to stand on her own two feet with the help of a charming prince who happens to be a notorious criminal who everyone is after. This story wasn't as innocent as the fairytales she grew up reading, this story wasn't even for children. Their story was one of secrets and lies of unknown pasts and destined meetings - It was seduction and fascination - all consuming and obsessive and compulsive love and lust that intermingled and left her breathless.

It was a dance from day one but neither could relinquish control and let the other lead so they just danced circles around each other until the longing looks and heated gazes became their anthem - neither addressing or relenting to the growing tension that mounts inside any room they both occupy until it becomes suffocating. There's a feeling that manifests itself into every fiber of her being - its unrelenting and she can't deny it anymore - can't deny the tightening of her limbs or the strong push she has to lunge herself into his strong awaiting arms. She can't help but lock her legs together whenever he looks at her a certain way- when he licks his lips and she stares fascinated and wonders how they would feel or taste. In those moments she doesn't have to wonder what he's thinking because she has learned to read him better, especially when his eyes glaze over in lust and intrigue- like when he stares at her like he's seen her naked or like he's undressing her with his eyes and his gaze is feasting on ever curve and crevice of her body in its naked glory- spread out just for him.

He was a possessive man and it had turned her on from day one although she refuses to admit it. He's calculated and manipulative and lethal but god help her she wants to see how possessive he could get if she bared herself to him, she wants that passion directed towards her, and her mind is filled with would be fantasies of him having his way with her- whenever, wherever, however he chooses- In her fantasies she always complies. In her fantasies, he always leaves her satisfied and sore.

She takes the last swig of her scotch and signals for a refill to the bartender. She lets out an exasperated sigh when she admits to herself that scotch wasn't usually her first choice and that he's only been gone for two days but she still doesn't miss him any less than if he'd been absent from her life for a whole year. She's comforted by the glass and the warm amber liquid and the smell that encompasses her senses and provides her a familiar comfort even in his absence.

The bar is decently occupied and she lets herself relax into the stool a little more, its been a long day and she's exhausted but sleep just wouldn't come. They have been getting closer with each day gone by but he hasn't called or tried to make contact in two days and she tells herself not to dwell on it but she can't help it when she has become accustomed to either seeing him everyday or at least hearing his voice when they were unable to meet.

To make matters worse, it was his birthday yesterday and she really wanted to spend the day with him.

She's brewing in her own menacing thoughts when someone takes occupancy of the stool next to her.

She turns her head to the left and notices someone trying to get her attention. He's not sitting but leaning on the bar facing towards her with his elbow on the marble and his other hand resting on the back of her seat.

"My buddies bet me that I wouldn't be able to start a conversation with the most beautiful girl in the bar." He said slyly before adding, "Can I buy you a drink with their money?" He finishes with a cocky smirk but it doesn't have the same effect on her as it does when another cocky bastard gives her that same look. This guy looks like he's trying to hard, adolescent and unknowing and even ill-educated on the semantics of picking up a woman. He doesn't come off as sly or tempting like Red does. Doesn't exude the era of arrogance and self-assurance successfully because he's an amateur.

No, she thinks nobody excels at the art of seduction quite like the concierge of crime does.

She groans inwardly but can't help the roll of her eyes.

What is wrong with men her age?, she thinks. They seem to have no poise or sophistication.

He's close to her age, even attractive with a full head of short curls and dark eyes but he's just a boy - and she's done with child play.

"Well,- I'd rather have the money." She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly and gives him a sympathetic smile while reaching for her drink again. "I'm going to look away and give you a minute to lick your wounds and walk away." She adds.

She feels him lean in, "With you, I'd only need a minute." He whispers near her ear and she shrugs away from him.

But before she can say anything, she feels his presence, her nostrils fill with his enticing scent and in the corner of her eye she sees him tilt his fedora.

"That is not something I would be advertising as a means to pick-up a woman." She's missed his voice and her body shudders and her heart flutters at the same exact time from it. "No woman is turned on by a minute man who blows his load prematurely." He adds while shrugging off his coat and shawl and laying it over the empty stool to her right. "Especially this woman." He adds while looking directly into Lizzie's eyes and her stare narrows to his mouth just in time to watch him roll his tongue.

Her legs squeeze together, for the friction he makes her crave or to offset the heat that is puddling between them, she doesn't know.

He looks so good, so tan and taut and appealing to her eyes.

Her gaze fixates on giving Red the once over and she forgets momentarily that the stranger is still leaning into her.

"Who are you?" He asks with knitted eye-brows and looks Red up and down, clearly a little apprehensive because Red is always menacing, always exudes power and wealth and he's charming - even to men, with his three-piece suits, signature fedora, and even the way he carries himself with confidence and sophistication and that era of self-assurance that any lesser man would look up to and seek to emulate.

"I'm the man that keeps her up all night." He quips while working his jaw and an evil glint appears in his eyes. "And you're the boy thats going to do exactly what the lovely lady said and lick your wounds and walk away." Red reaches for his fedora and takes it off his head and places it on the counter of the bar before reaching behind him and extracting his Browning High-Power and rests it beside his discarded hat.

The intruder is gone in a flash and Liz can't help the smile tugging at the corners of her lips and eyes Red adoringly. He returns her stare and gives a little shrug before sitting down beside her.

He hums in delight when his eyes fixate on her drink.

"You're drinking scotch, Lizzie." He states with a pleased look on his face. "Did you miss me?" He leans into her slightly and she can feel his hot breath ghosting on the juncture between her neck and ear.

"You think you could keep me up all night?" She counter asks while trying to keep her voice from cracking and chest from rising.

"Because, I missed you." He says in that low gravely voice that she imagines is what he sounds like in bed and it drives her crazy, especially since he uses it with her so often now.

She finds the courage to meet his gaze when he dips his head to stare at her face.

"Because you're a little older, and I'm a little younger." She adds, ignoring his question and continuing with hers. "You might not be able to keep up-"

"Did you miss me?" He interrupts, his eyes fixating between her eyes and lips.

The air is thick with tension again as it always is with them, with pent-up frustration and aggravation- desire and need.

She lets out a breath.

"Maybe." She answers in a breathless whisper.

"Lizzie." He breathes in a desperate low growl.

She nods her head yes.

He gives her a knowing look before extracting himself from her personal space and motioning for another round of drinks.

With drink in hand, he takes a sip and he can't help but hide the upturn of his lips in victory.

"I want to wipe that smirk right off your face." She teases in a mock-serious tone before taking another gulp. Its her third drink and she's got a good buzz going and its causing her to warm from the inside out and its loosening up her tongue and inhibitions.

"As long as I have a face, you'll have a place to sit."

Her head snaps up and eyes narrow as a deep blush covers her skin.

She gulps and tries hard not to look fazed but its so hard when they've been delving into this torturous foreplay for years now. She wants so badly to feel him buried deep inside of her, to finally stop wondering and have confirmation that he's as well-endowed as she imagines he is.

Red works his jaw and takes pride in the way she reacts to his words, his mind racing with an array of images that involve Lizzie's thighs barricading his head in between her legs while his mouth tastes the fruit that he has been forbidden to divulge in for so long now.

He imagines what she'd taste like, how she'd sound like and what she'd look like while she was coming for him - on him.

The things he wishes he could show her - do to her...and to think, she once asked him if he was her father,

"Is that a pick-up line you use to get women in bed?" She asks after a nervous chuckle. "I thought a man like you didn't need to succumb to using them in order to get into my pants."

She immediately flinches and shakes her head and feels her body flush and face heat again.

Why is she always finding herself acting like a little school girl in his presence? Who is hot for teacher and she can't even deny it anymore.

"Are you saying you would let me get into your pants?" He teases unmercifully with a look on his face that tells her if they were anywhere near a bed, or a backseat or even a countertop that he would take her right then and there. She watches as his eyes wander from her neck and follows his gaze downwards as his eyes feast on her cleavage before taking precedent on her crossed legs.

She stutters, "I-, I didn't mean "My" pants, I meant women in general."

He looks at her disapprovingly, "I think it was more of a Freudian slip, Lizzie." He huffs, "But it seems you're a little slow on the uptake and don't want to relinquish control as of yet and give in to your desires or my undeniable charm." His eyes dart from studying her features change and narrowing at her eyes which always seem to be fixated on his lips.

She's inebriated from the alcohol and hypnotized by his mere presence and close proximity and for a moment she contemplates giving in to the urge to lean into the crook of his neck and fill her senses with his scent and his essence.

Red cant suppress the light upturn of the sides of his lips, biting down on his cheek from giving him away and allowing his smugness and self-assurance to shine through but God -The way shes looking at him, the way her eyes fixate on his mouth and the way she licks her lips whenever he has her full attention makes him want to consume her.

He wants to own her, make her his and stake his claim on her because she belongs to him.

What he really wants to do is ruin her -In the most pleasurable of ways.

"So- Why are you here all be your eyelashes?" He blinks and an amused crooked smile graces his face and he's never looked more handsome, his eyes sparkle and the crinkles around them are so endearing, so appealing and he gives off a boyish charm that makes her want to give him the world just to see him this content and carefree and happy for the rest of his life. She wants to kiss those creases and run her lips across those long blonde eyelashes and let him know that he's loved, he's loved more than he will ever know it and she just wishes she could show him. "I mean, why are you here by yourself, where is Dembe?" She asks her arousal taking precedent and not even embarrassed this time around.

She wants to give him her life, she wants to hold his heart in the palm of her hand and never let it out of her grip. She wants to kiss his pain away. She wants to give him things he's lost in the past.

He shifts in his seat again and gulps down the last of his scotch. "Dembe is outside in the car waiting for us," He tells her, "Why don't we get going, its getting rather late, I'll take you home." He suggests and immediately regrets his chivalry when he sees the sparkle in her eyes die.

"I missed your birthday," She states solemnly, "We didn't get to spend it together." She reminds him. His heart quickens at the tone in her voice and the raw emotion that plagues her face, as if it physically hurt her to be away from him on a day that has become so insignificant to him.

He swallows and shrugs his shoulders, " I don't feel any older but there's still something depressing about realizing I'm over the hill now."

"Better to be over the hill than buried under it." She teases.

"I feel like my time is running out." He admits almost solemnly and her heart clenches.

"All we have is time, Raymond."

His features instantly soften and he raises an eyebrow in pleased fascination. She never seizes to amaze him, surprise him with her gull.

"Oh, I'm "Raymond" now, huh?" He mimics the way his name rolled off her tongue so seductively and inviting.

She corners him with her eyes and bites the side of her lip before she extends her hand and moves in to reach for his.

He lets out a shuddered breath as her fingers lightly interlace with his and is mesmerized by the sight of his hand enveloping hers and her boldness and initiation of this type of intimacy. They both sit there and stare at their joined limbs in contentment, His eyes narrow at the sight and a flood of emotions run through him rapidly and he forces himself to regulate the pounding of his heart.

All he's ever wanted was for her to let him love her.

She realizes then that time is of the essence, she's young and he's got plenty of years left she hopes, but she doesn't want to waste another second of being apart when they could be together. He's waited fifty some years for her and she's waited long enough as well and she doesn't want to wait any longer.

"Take me home." She asks in a whisper, refusing to let her gaze wander anywhere but at their hands. "I want to give you, your belated birthday gift."

"I haven't unwrapped a birthday gift in ages." He confesses.

"Well, tonight..." She starts while tugging on his hand to stand up with her, "You get to unwrap me."


End file.
